


The Werewolf Prince's Bachelor Party

by silverandblue, thedeadparrot



Series: The Werewolf Prince [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming, Community: pod_together, M/M, Podfic, Podfic Length: 30-45 Minutes, Stag Nights & Bachelor Parties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-06-20 09:18:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15531093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverandblue/pseuds/silverandblue, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedeadparrot/pseuds/thedeadparrot
Summary: Weddings are stressful. Alex and Brendan are not dealing with it well. A joint bachelor party is definitely what they need, right?[Created for pod_together 2018, Text and Audio available.]





	The Werewolf Prince's Bachelor Party

**Author's Note:**

> This pod_together project is a coda to [The Werewolf Prince's Husband](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13250103) and will probably not make a lick of sense without reading that first. However, the Gallys being ridiculous should be enjoyable with or without that background worldbuild-y knowledge. 
> 
> Being a pod_together project, we would appreciate if you would try enjoying both written and aural forms of the story.  
  
---  
  
  


  


**_The Werewolf Prince's Bachelor Party_ **  

  


Written by thedeadparrot

Read by silverandblue

Cover art by thedeadparrot  


  


  
Length: 00:31:29

Size: 21.8 MB

Download: [MP3](http://www.mediafire.com/file/z3vsgznraa702yy/%5Bpodfic%5D%20The%20Werewolf%20Prince%27s%20Bachelor%20Party.mp3)  
  
---  
  
  


Alex knew this was a bad idea. 

"This was a bad idea," he hisses to Brendan.

Brendan, predictably, takes that as a cue to get into an argument. "Fuck you," he says, fuming. He's genuinely pissed, which Alex can tell because his smile has a nasty edge to it. "You know my brother was just trying to make _you_ and your stupid werewolf buddy happy."

Alex glances off to the side, where Nate is vomiting into the dense brush off to the side of the hiking path. It's his own damn fault, as far as Alex is concerned. Alex _told_ him not to eat those berries, even if Nail had dared him. Nikita pats Nate on the back a few times while Nolan Gallagher looks on somewhat sheepishly. "He could have just asked whether or not we wanted to go hiking before our bachelor party instead of just assuming--"

Brendan throws up his hands. "I don't know, I told him about your moon party thing, and he assumed you were all into being in the woods and shit." He gestures to the greenery all around them. It's dense enough that only a few flashes of sunlight peek through the canopy. There's the sound of birdsong filling the trees. A gentle breeze rustles the leaves. Alex hates it.

"We could have gone to the beach," he says. He's seen them, at least. It's nothing like Florida's beaches, but there would be sun and sand and water and way fewer poisonous things for Nate to put in his mouth.

Brendan rolls his eyes and shoves a water bottle into Alex's hands. "Whatever, asshole," he says, and then he walks away to talk to Nolan. It makes Alex feels a little queasy, like he was the one who ate poisonous berries, because Brendan only walks away from fights when he doesn't care about winning them.

Nail, who is not nearly penitent enough for all the damage he's caused, steps up to Alex's side as Alex unscrews the top of the bottle and takes a swig of the water inside. It's Brendan's water bottle, and he didn't bother to put any ice in, so the water is lukewarm. "Trouble in paradise?" he asks in Russian. He sniffs the air. "You smell like you're being a grump."

Alex is pretty sure everyone within sight of him can tell that he's being a grump. He doesn't need Nail sniffing him up and sticking his nose where it doesn't belong (literally). "Fuck off," Alex says, also in Russian. "It's fine." Nikita glances over at them, ears attuned to the sound of Russian cursing. He's not a werewolf, but Alex was probably talking louder than he should have been.

Brendan's expression also twitches, for just a moment, but then he goes back to talking to Nolan, pretending like he didn't hear a word Alex said. It's been like this more often lately. Brendan's anger burning cold instead of hot.

"Yes," Nail says. "Everyone can tell exactly how fine the both of you are, and we are all sure you won't murder each other before you make it to the altar." He bumps Alex's shoulder with his own. The contact is comforting, a werewolf gesture that could pass for a human one as well.

"Human weddings are so weird," Alex grumbles, because then he doesn't have to talk about any of this. "Why do we have to all of this bullshit in front of other people anyway?"

"You're the one who agreed to this," Nail reminds him.

"I was clearly impaired," Alex agrees. Brendan definitely was when he agreed to bond with Alex in the first place.

Nail snorts at him. "I really don't need to know that much about your sex life."

"Fuck you," Alex says. "You know that's not what I meant." He glances over in Brendan's direction again. Brendan is wearing a stupid red baseball cap that hides most of his face and eyes. His pale gray t-shirt stretches over his shoulders -- one of his cheap ones that runs thin enough that Alex has accidentally ripped one in half. Alex still blames Brendan for _that_ particular incident, even if he bought Brendan a new one just so Brendan would stop bringing it up every time they got into an argument. Brendan turns to say something to Nate, and there's a moment where he tilts his head in just the right way that Alex gets a clear look at the sharp angle of his jawline. Alex wants to bite it, wants to sink his teeth in until there's a red-purple mark there when they have to get in front of their extended families and say their vows.

It's infuriating. Everything about Brendan is infuriating, but it's especially infuriating how he can make Alex want him so much just by existing. Alex would say that he's figured out how to deal with it over the years, but he's about to marry the asshole in front of their friends and family, so that's probably a lie. 

"Seriously, though," Nail continues, "if you want to call this whole thing off--" He raises his gigantic eyebrows at Alex, as if his question wasn't obvious enough.

Alex growls at him, and Nail just laughs. They've known each other since they were just pups, when Alex's family -- and by extension, Alex's pack -- took him in during juniors, and it's been impossible for Alex to intimidate him since. "No," Alex says, shaking his head. "He's just-- we're under a lot of stress right now." As far as Alex's family is concerned, this whole thing is a quaint human ritual to celebrate their existing bond. For Brendan's family, the wedding is an Once-In-A-Lifetime-Event that has to be perfect. They were already feeling slighted by the whole secret werewolf bonding thing, and adding wedding preparations into the mix has not been helpful. All communication from Brendan's side of the family to Alex's has to be filtered through Brendan, even if Brendan's family has never had a problem speaking to Alex's face before.

Maybe they're afraid Alex is going to bite them or something. 

"As long as everything's fine," Nail says, trying to ruffle his hair, and Alex shoves him away, laughing.

Brendan glances back over at the two of them, and the only thing that Alex can read of his expression is the clench of his jaw and the tension in his shoulders. Alex wants to wrestle him, wants to pick a fight about his shitty gift-giving skills, wants to mangle some English just to make him laugh, even at Alex's expense, because then maybe Brendan will stop-- maybe he won't regret this any more than he already does.

But no, they're stuck out here with their friends. Communing with nature or some shit. Alex scratches at the back of his neck, where he can already feel a recent mosquito bite starting to swell. He knows he's going to be blaming Brendan for this later.

"Everything is--" Alex starts. 

He's interrupted by the sound of Nate's throwing up again, a prolonged sort of retching that Alex has heard since early juniors adventures in alcohol poisoning.

"It's great," Alex says. "Everything is great."

\---

Alex doesn't get to speak to Brendan again on their way back to the beginning of the trail. He and Nolan lead the way while Alex and Nail hang in the middle. Nate and Nikita bring up the rear. 

Halfway back, there's an incident with Nikita almost being bitten by a snake, though Nate claims there was no snake and there was just a very large centipede instead. There's a little bit of screeching and yelling, loud enough to startle the nearby birds.

Alex also manages to misstep over a creek, which means he soaks through his right shoe and sock and cuff, leaving him cranky and damp on the rest of the way back. The only redeeming feature of the entire incident is that Brendan forgets for a whole ten seconds that he's mad at Alex and decides to laugh at his misfortune. It's one of those laughs that crinkles his eyes and animates his whole face. Alex thinks it might even be worth it for that, but then his right shoe starts squishing every step he takes, and he's right back to being cranky about it.

It's a relief when they get back to the parking lot. Nolan drove them all in a SUV but Nate's still feeling gross and Alex needs to change his shoes and socks, so they head back to the hotel. Brendan rides shotgun, only ever acknowledging the back seats to say a few words to Nate, while Nikita chatters away about the basketball offseason in English. He's one of the types who tries to smooth over the awkward spaces with more words. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't.

The hotel is stately and grand in downtown Vancouver. He and Brendan are sharing one of the larger suites, one that has a gorgeous sprawling view of the Vancouver skyline. Alex knows that if Brendan's pissed, he can hold a grudge forever, but he still pokes Alex in the shoulder as Alex swipes their keycard and lets them into the room. That's probably just the bond, making him want to touch and be as close to Alex as possible.

"I can't believe your stupid fucking habit of hoarding shoes and overpacking came in useful today," Brendan grumbles, half-snickering to himself. He slumps against Alex's shoulder. He's solid and warm and familiar, and he smells like coming home, even if he also smells like bug spray and sunscreen and the dense vegetation of the Vancouver woods.

Alex elbows him in the ribs, lightly enough that it just makes Brendan laugh, a soft chuckle that drifts over the back of Alex's neck. Alex opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. It's not that he's insecure about his English. It just feels like-- it just feels like he never has the right words, and when he tries to get something out, it just comes out garbled and wrong. And at that point, it's seems safer just not to say anything at all. It tends to work out okay, though, because Brendan's happy to goad Alex into filling those empty spaces.

"Are you sure we have to go out again?" Alex asks, because then maybe Alex can push Brendan onto the bed, strip off all their clothes, and suck Brendan off until he can't remember that Alex's an asshole that his family hates.

That gets another annoyed huff out of Brendan, and Alex knows that's he's somehow managed to fuck this up again. "Yeah," Brendan says. "Nolan's got the whole night planned out, and you _will_ enjoy it." He narrows his eyes. "Just remember that I know where you sleep and that your mom has been on me to sharpen the kitchen knives."

"You keep forgetting to do that," Alex points out. 

"As far as you know," Brendan says. There are razors in his smile. 

So that's how Alex ends up changing his pants, his socks, and his shoes in preparation for whatever surprise his brother-in-law has in store for him.

"I can't believe you don't own anything that doesn't make you look like a Russian fuckboy," Brendan says.

Alex glances down. He traded out his boots for a pair of pink Chucks and a pair of pants that he's always liked because he can wear them slouchy and low on his hips and have decent pockets. He looks fine. His grandparents wouldn't even yell at him for having holes in things. He gives Brendan a once over. "At least I don't look like I fell out of a Patagonia catalog," he says, because Brendan is still wearing most of his hiking gear, bland khakis and a white t-shirt underneath a long-sleeved button-up.

Brendan barks out a laugh at that, and some of the tension around his eyes softens. "It would be an improvement over your current style."

"You only wish you could pull this off," Alex says. He straightens the collar of his shirt in the mirror, runs a hand through his hair, and lets Brendan herd him out the door. 

He can do this part just fine. He can poke right back at Brendan when Brendan pokes him, and it's comfortable, easy. This is how they do things. This is how they've always done things.

\---

Nolan's brilliant idea for the night of their bachelor party is to go to a strip club. It's on the higher class side of things, at least. It doesn't have that run-down seedy vibe that Alex regretfully has to admit that he's familiar with. The floors aren't sticky. The chairs don't look like they're falling apart.

On stage, a woman wearing a slutty nurse costume is stripping off her gloves one at a time while wrapped around a pole. Her lips are very red, and her breasts have a bulbous quality that means that they're probably fake. Alex can't take his eyes off her, because (a) he's still very much into women and (b) that is an impressive display of athleticism.

Nikita has already zoomed ahead to find a decent seat. He didn't put on enough sunscreen out in the woods, and his skin has taken on an uneven red cast. It's not that visible in the dim lights of club, but he keeps scratching his neck in a way that draws attention to it.

Alex glares at Brendan, because Brendan definitely knew that this was in the works, but Brendan just shrugs and says, "Nolan thought that it could be the last gasp of our heterosexuality."

If that's what tonight's going to be about-- well, Alex starts looking for the bar. He is entirely too sober for this. He flags down the bartender and buys a round of shots for the table. The bartender's the grizzled sort with a nasty looking scar over his top lip, and he smirks when Alex downs his shot right in front of him and then asks for a refill. Alex glowers at him, and the man just laughs.

When Alex gets back to the rest of the group, Nail and Nolan are deep in an argument about skirts that Alex has trouble parsing. Brendan takes one look at Alex's face before grabbing a shot off the tray for himself.

"Hey, hey, hey," Nikita says. "The grooms shouldn't have to pay for their own drinks." He's grinning, as if he has a plan. Alex hates about half of his plans in general and all of his plans when they involve alcohol.

Whatever it is, Alex just hopes that they manage to survive it.

\---

It doesn't take long before there's a constant stream of drinks coming to the table because Nail manages to charm one of the waitress into prompt service with both news of Alex and Brendan's upcoming nuptials and stories of some of Alex's more disastrous dating escapades from their Sarnia days. Plus, Nikita is a good tipper, unlike either of the Gallaghers.

The world starts to go fuzzy at the edges around drink number four (or is it six?), and that makes it easier to just sort of relax, to watch the dancers on stage, to laugh at Nikita's increasingly slurred jokes or at the expression on Nail's face when one of the dancers tries to give him a lap dance.

Alex is, for the most part, a happy drunk. He likes being around people, and he likes being in clubs, and the alcohol just brings that out of him. It's not so different tonight, but he also feels restless and uncomfortable and snappish. If he were at home, with his pack, or even just at home with Brendan, he could shift into wolf form, just to-- get away from it all. The world is always simpler as a wolf, all his human problems more manageable and easier to deal with.

He's pretty sure Nail can tell. Brendan, if he's even bothering to pay attention to Alex, can probably tell, too.

Of course, Nolan can't tell at all. "Hey, Chuck," he says, giving Alex a punch in the shoulder that Alex _knows_ is attempting to be friendly and brotherly. "Your family is flying in tomorrow morning, right?"

Alex narrows his eyes. The Gallagher family resemblance is strong, probably even a little bit too strong, because Nolan is wearing the exactly expression on his face that Brendan does when he's about to make a terrible joke, his lips pursed as if he's holding back his laughter. "Yes,' Alex says. Anna had to deal with the fallout of some of their pack members wandering onto the territory of a neighboring pack that they're only moderately friendly with, so she couldn’t fly in any earlier, and their parents decided to stick with her for moral support.

"We should probably hide Ginger then?" Nolan asks. "Just in case they're hungry when they get in?" His shit-eating grin is exactly the same as Brendan's, too.

Ginger is the current Gallagher cat, an orange rescue tabby. She likes plopping herself into laps for cuddles and scratches, even strangers like Alex. The thought of eating her is revolting, and whatever tenuous thread that was keeping Alex here, anchored to the rest of the group, snaps.

He shoves himself away from the table and immediately looks for the nearest exit. He finds a back door propped open with a cinder block that leads into a back alleyway, and he stumbles outside into the cooler night air. 

It's darker, but at this point in the summer, there's a still a little bit of light on the horizon. The street lights have flicked on, giving the area an orange glow. It smells like a city, but stronger, in the way that alleys always smell more strongly of people and cars and urine and decomposing things. The music still echoes a little bit back here, but Alex can hear himself think again, which is nice. Even if he's drunk enough that thinking feels a little slowed down and messy.

He finds himself slumped against the brick of the building, eyes closed, wondering why the fuck he's even here. He could blame Brendan for everything, but that doesn't even feel as satisfying as it usually does. Not for the first time, Alex wonders if this whole wedding is just a-- just a thing they never managed to stop, like a practical joke that somehow snowballed into this whole-- clusterfuck. Brendan didn't know what he was getting into, that first time he proposed the bonding, and he's the kind of person who will tough things out. He'll take his punches and keep on smiling through it, even if he's miserable.

"Hey."

Alex opens his eyes to find Brendan standing in the doorway, hands tucked into his pockets. He's frowning, for once, a crease forming on his forehead between his eyebrows. 

"What the fuck?" Brendan asks. He's a little smashed. His voice is slurred.

"Fuck off," Alex says in response, because he can't think of anything better to say right now.

"No," Brendan continues. "You fuck off." He blinks once, twice. "Wait, you _fucked_ off and I wanna know why."

Alex makes a face at him, and Brendan punches him in the shoulder. The punch hurts a little bit, because Brendan's pretty strong, and Alex knows he's pouting a little bit about it. Alex says. "Ugh, leave me alone."

"Not gonna happen," Brendan says. He grabs a fistful of Alex's shirt and tugs him down, trying to pull Alex into a headlock.

Alex shoves him away, hands clumsy with alcohol, but Brendan is clumsier, stumbling back, tripping over his feet, and landing on the ground. "What the fuck?" Brendan repeats, from where he's laying on his back. "You've been all--" He waves his hand in the air. "-- and I thought that maybe you'd get the fuck over it when we got here, but then you got all--" He makes another, different, gesture with his hand. "--and I know we keep fucking up, but we're _trying_ , okay?"

About half the time, getting drunk just amplifies Brenan's natural tendencies towards bullshit, and the other half the time, it strips all of that bullshit away. Right now, it's the latter, and it makes Alex feel like shit, except for the fact that he already felt like shit, so it's more like it makes him feel like shit that's been stepped on, scraped off someone's shoe, and then run over by a car. "Maybe you shouldn't," Alex mumbles.

"What?" Brendan asks.

"Your trying sucks. And this wedding is awful. And your family hates me. And you don't want to marry me at all." It all spills out in a rush, all the things that Alex can't hold in anymore. 

"What?" Brendan says again.

"And you sound stupid when you repeat yourself," Alex finishes, because Brendan does, even if there are another twenty million other things that make Brendan sound stupid all the time.

"Fuck you, don't want to marry you. It was-- I was totally the one who proposed first." Brendan sways unsteadily to his feet, crowds into Alex's space, almost trips and smashes his nose into Alex's shoulder, and waves a finger in Alex's face, poking him in the cheek.

"No, you weren't," Alex says, poking Brendan in the chest back. "It was like a mu--- a thing did together."

Brendan shakes his head. "Not that time. The first time. When you were all full of weird werewolf nonsense and didn't realize that I want to bone you forever."

That draws Alex up short. "You really want to bone me forever?" he says. Brendan's made vague references and jokes about it but they've always had a fuzzy, unreal quality to them, like maybe Alex was only seeing what he wanted to see. Brendan's never put it so plainly before.

"I wouldn't be fucking dealing with all this goddamn crap otherwise," Brendan says. He pokes Alex in the cheek again. "You're an idiot. My parents are terrified that they're going to step on your delicate werewolf sensibilities and Nolan's trying to be like, not weird, about this and keeps being weird, and like, everything about this process sucks except for the part where I get to make you promise to bone me forever in front of fucking everybody."

"Oh," Alex says. His heart feels heavy and warm in his chest, full of emotion.

"Now. Stop. Being. Weird," Brendan says. He punctuates each word with an extra poke.

"I'll try," Alex promises.

"Good," Brendan says. He grabs some of Alex's hair and yanks his head down, drawing Alex into a fierce, sloppy kiss. It's awkward, and Brendan's mouth tastes like disgusting, cheap beer, and Alex accidentally bites Brendan's tongue at one point. It's also really fucking awesome. Alex also kind of maybe wants to bone Brendan forever, even when they're old and wrinkly and can't play hockey anymore.

He's considering what it would take to get Brendan's hand down his pants when someone interrupts them. "Oh, gross," Nikita says in Russian. "I was going to make sure you didn't get lost out here, but it seems like you're already busy."

Brendan yanks away, startled at the sound of a new voice. He relaxes when he sees that it's just Nikita, though. "I guess we better, uh, go back inside," he says, but he doesn't let go of the grip he has on Alex's hips.

"Yes," Alex says, licking his lips and clearing his throat. "We should."

Semi-reluctantly, they follow Nikita back inside into the loud, dark depths of the club.

"Such a shame," Nikita says, making a sweeping gesture towards the stage where a woman stripped down to her sparkly underwear is hanging upside down with one leg wrapped around the pole, "so many beautiful breasts and they are wasted on the two of you."

Alex doesn't bother to respond to that, but he does slide his hand into the back pocket of Brendan's pants (and okay, maybe Patagonia is good for _some things_ ) so that he can squeeze Brendan's ass a little bit, and when Brendan looks up at him, he's smiling again.

"We'll be fine," Brendan promises, and Alex knows he's not talking about the breasts.

"Yeah, we're good," Alex says, leaning in even closer to Brendan's side.

Brendan's smile somehow manages to get even bigger. And for the first time in a while, Alex even believes himself. 

Yeah, they're going to be good. They're going to be fucking _great_.

 

FIN.

**Author's Note:**

>  **tdp:** Many thanks to silverandblue for dragging me into this and to Dark_Eyed_Junco for the beta and feedback. It's been a wild ride.
> 
>  **sab:** Thank you to thedeadparrot for being so flexible and for agreeing to do this project in the first place. Also, for that excellent cover art! All my love to frecklebombfic, who provided indispensable help on editing this podfic while I was in the midst of moving.
> 
> Thank you to the mods for hosting this challenge!!
> 
> And thank _you_ for reading/listening! We hope you enjoyed the product of our combined hard work, and we would really love it if you would leave us some feedback below, in the form of comments and/or kudos! Thanks again!  <3 <3


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